


why we broke up (a letter to ian gallagher)

by milkovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Art, Bipolar Ian, Depression, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Letters, M/M, Moving On, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Post-Break Up, Reminiscing, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkovich/pseuds/milkovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With only his feelings, a pen, and a piece of paper, Mickey reminisces about his relationship with Ian after spending half a year apart with no contact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> art credit goes to the lovely Maira Kalman, illustrator of Why We Broke Up, the book in which this fanfiction is based off of. This is by no means a fix-it-fic, so tread carefully.

This is the box, Ian. Inside is everything.  
  
Two beer caps, a stub from a Sox game,  
that note from you, a box of matches,  
that cigarette you didn't light, Fiona's book,  
the stolen sugar, a toy truck, your army jacket,  
a comb, and the rest of it.

  
This is it, Gallagher. The whole story of why we broke up.

* * *

 

 


	2. Intro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into it! There's a long, heartbreaking road ahead, so bare with me for a while.

**The thunk is the box, Ian.** It was lying around and your shit was still in my room, and I needed to get rid of it before Mandy poked her nose into my business. I grabbed everything of yours that I could find, every little memento that we'd shared together, because I don't fucking need them anymore. Its been in my closet for a while, but I think it's time I give it up. I know you're not coming back, Ian, and so I'm leaving this box for you, because I don't need a reminder of my mistakes.  
  


The thunk won't matter much to me, but a sense of pride will run through my veins for a second. I'm finally moving past this, moving past you, the one thing I thought would be constant in my life. I'm finally saying 'fuck you' to whatever chance we had left, because I don't want it anymore, I don't need it anymore. This pride, Ian, will be enough for me to walk back two minutes to my place, knowing that I did all I could. I was there for you. I helped you when you needed it. Three years of my life, down the drain, because you think I was trying to fucking fix you. I know you're not crazy. Fuck, maybe I'm the crazy one. Maybe if I explain it to you, you'll understand, because fuck, I loved you, and I might still love you, but I'm done giving a shit.

I'd loved you despite what we'd been through, despite what was to come,   
but you couldn't see that, and that, Ian, is why we broke up.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

Something my Ma used to tell me when I was little, was 'you either have the feeling, or you don't.' I used to watch the way she looked at my fuckhead of a dad, and I could tell she didn't have it. I was little, I was stupid, and I thought everyone deserved love. I believed that very firmly until the day she died, and fuck you for making me believe it again and taking that away from me. I'm writing this and I'm stoned out of my mind so the words may be unreadable but I couldn't build up the nerve to do this without a little help.

Mandy walked in on me while I was packing your stuff up, looked and the box and then at me, sighed, and said, "Do you need my help?" In which I stayed silent, because how the fuck was I supposed to ask her to do that? She's your best friend. Your girlfriend. The reason we met, you know? So it twinged something in me, reminded me that this was it, after this box was on your porch, it was over, and I guess I wasn't completely over this. Us.

"No," I finally replied, shaking my head. "I'm..Just packing up Gallagher's stuff." For a while, I couldn't even say your name. It was just 'Gallagher', because then I could picture any one of them. It didn't have to be you, with your green eyes and bright red hair. Mandy nodded slowly, because it'd been six months, six months without a word or a call or a text from you, and it had to end sometime. Nothing really lasts forever, is what I've learned.

"Finally," she had said, as if cutting you out of my life was the easiest thing I was ever gonna do, as if I hadn't spent hours, days at a time worrying over whether or not you were fucking okay, as if I hadn't admitted how I felt for you twice without expecting anything back.

"You're ready for this?"  
"Not gonna wait around forever for the fucker."  
"..Are you upset over it, even a little bit?"  
"No." I lied.  
"Mickey."  
"Okay, fuck, yeah. A little."  
"Okay."  
"Okay?"

She sat on the edge of my bed, our bed, and watched me pack everything away, anything in this godforsaken house that reminded me of the time I'd spent with you. She was quiet, and I was thankful, because I couldn't deal with another fucking person trying to comfort me. 'It'll get better,' they said. 'He'll come back to you,' they promised. Yeah? So where the fuck are you, Ian? Where are you?

Mandy is a good sister. Loyal. She's the main reason you and I even started fucking, if you think about it. She never had a chance with you, but then again, neither did I, huh? So she was angry. Hurt. You'd rejected her, and now we've come full fucking circle, because you've rejected me. You and I, though. We were really something in the beginning. I wouldn't take it back, and I wouldn't change it. But I think the timing was wrong, I think we weren't ready for eachother, but you came crashing into my life as if you belonged there, and that, Ian, is why we broke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, art credit goes to the lovely Maira Kalman.


End file.
